Of Roses and thorns
by Katherine2701
Summary: The daughter of Denethor embarks on her most dangerous journey of her life, with death around every corner will she ever find love and relief? OC/Eomer. Start is 3rd person before switching to a POV of the OC .
1. Chapter 1: Prologue part 1

Of Roses and thorns:

Writers note:

1) This universe doesn't belong to me but to the Tolkien Estate blah, blah, blah.

2) I've changed a few parts in the story to fit my writing plot, so any moaners can shut it. Tolkien said that he wanted middle earth to become a "body of more or less connected legend" so really in this he states he was fine with other writers adapting his works, so ha!

Chapter 1: Prologue part 1

(Date: TA -1st May 2999 or in Shire Reckoning 1399)

(Location: Minas Tirith)

The room was large and richly furnished. Priceless paintings and tapestries were hung around the cream walls and wooden engravings were etched into the fireplace with stunning detail. In the gloom of it all, the room kept a constant upholding of wealth. The fire crackled hungrily, munching up wood alike to a horse to it's treasured hey. Heavy drapes were pulled around the vast four poster bed featured in the center for privacy. The single, small window was slightly ajar to let in the night , the world was cold and damp. A half-moon hung in the sky like a mobile for a child and the blanket of darkness seemed to cover all.

The light in the fireplace and several candles gave the impression on of shadows across the room that looked on in silent companionship. There was the scent of lavender and damp leaves coming from a bowl of scented herbs objectively on a side table, delivering it's faint fragrence to the room's inhabitants.

The inhabitants being female, numbering in three individuals. The first was a young lady that was like a candle near extinguished on a cold winter night. She was a glass window that could break at a single touch yet featured some of the most extraordinary images that drew in the interest of any who looked apon her. She possessed a rare ability therefore, of strength not in might but in will. However even she was at natures mercy as it seemed this frightened young individual's life began to wane under the strain of her perilous and self-sacrificing duty. Accordingly, she was dressed in the colour of her purity and innocence; she wore a white shift that was swiftly drenched in crimson dye. Her sleek, raven hair had become tangled and knotted in the wakes of pain that over took her and her blue eyes were drenched in the plunging waterfall that wetted her regal face.

The second individual was a seasoned maiden that must of once been a great youthened grace given to her long ago had been squandered apon her untill she appeared debilitated somewhat. However even time, though powerful, could not hide the air of the majesty surrounding the matron. Her eyes were alike to the great eagles of lore in their stormy glare. Dressed in an ash coloured gown, she seemed to be a personification of an oncomming storm cloud about to do battle with the inevitable.

The last individual was a lowly maid, with a cotton white cap and blackened skirts.. She held her head downcast so as to acknowledge her better's position and to symbolise her lower class. She was young though, and had glowing blond hair that occasionally escaped her cap. Her silence however was thankful, as it provided an almost peaceful aura of which the young lady could see to her duty in quiet solitude.

The duty being that of all wives; to provide an heir to their husband's estates.

However this duty was more important then just an act of succession. In reality? It was far more important then even the life of the mother, for by giving the life of the child: The lady knew that it would eventually become a vital piece in the upcoming event yet to happen.

"Be strong my dear, The child will come and by your strength be born the babe that we all long for. The preparation of Asphodel, Willow and Celandines will sped the process but it is for your endurance we must place our hopes in. Now, by your will, try and push this child into the world once more!" The withered madam spoke soothingly to the young woman with a tone of reassuring trust and familiarity.

A great cry erupted from the rosy lips of the imminent mother as her body shook in effort and fatigue. Her delicate hands grasped the bed linen and pulled in order to deal with the utter magnitude of the birth. The contraction must of been a lengthy one as when it finally ended, the lady shakeningly inhaled abruptly.

"Brúnith, I can't do this! The pain is too much to bear! By the valar, Is the end near or is it yet far away from me?" The young woman looked into the eyes of the woman - who's name was indeed Brúnith - and implored for the woman to answer her desperate cry for relief. As if struck dumb by the question, Brúnith could not bring herself to break the connection to the young lady. So fragile, so young and so innocent. She struggled with herself so as not to give in to the threat of tears and reluctantly built up a dam against them as she looked away from those watery eyes in order to investigate the exact position of the child. She felt the womb of the lady and then excitedly reported her findings.

"The birth is imminent. You, girl!" She frantically glanced towards the maid, who at that moment had been idle near the wall so as not to be in the way; "Come here and bring linen for wrapping!" The girl hastened and quickly went to work while at all times heeding the instructions of Brúnith. Suddenly a healthy cry sounded and after the hurried attempt to wrap and clean the child, the maid strode over to the lady and carefully placed the new-born baby in her arms.

"It's a girl Madam!" The maid squeaked in a small yet chirpy tone that must of been bottled up since her first glance at the scene going on before her.

The new mother turned her head towards the child and smiled, instantly loving and cherishing each moment with this new being. She lifted the little bundle and kissed the child's forehead in adoration, before naming the child's virtues in a cacophony of wonder.

"Alas, I regret that I can not watch her grow into a true maiden of Gondor. The spirit's are cruel in that regard. Farewell, my sweet blossom. Farewell, my Luthien!" She called in growing pain before giving into the black shadow of Death. Her breaths become hollow and eventually stopped all together as she went to the next world.

"Talia, go to the master and tell of your mistresses' passing and of the child. I fear I do not have the strength to move!" Brúnith murmured to Talia, the maid, before taking the child into her arms and huddling her close. Talia looked towards the body of her mistress before exiting the room solemnly. The baby Luthien began to bawl and whimper as if sensing her mother's fate and Brúnith looked apon the child with such emotion that she felt the dam of tears burst open with a quiet moan of sadness.

"So, you are to be called Luthien I presume? A blessed name for such a gifted child. Do not fear Luthien for I am here to protect you. No harm will come to you while I am here I swear, for I shall honnor and guide you in such a way lady Findulas would of. She was a fair lady your mother, and all of Gondor shall mourn her loss. I swear by the forces of right and good that I shall always protect you as I would your mother. Always ..."

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Adieu.

Katherine


	2. Chapter 2: Prologue part 2

Of Roses and Thorns:

Chapter 2: Prologue Part 2

(Date: TA -1st May 2999 or in Shire Reckoning 1399)

(Location: Minas Tirith)

The hall of kings was the dominion of the steward. It's hallowed walls had for centuries concealed some of the important secrets ever granted to the race of men, as well as the most well-known men who kept them. A colour scheme of white and black seemed to inter weave and contrast with the feelings of all those present. A large, white, empty throne dominated the room while a small dark chair seemed to be crushed under the weight of its solitary companion. A golden crown was hovering by wires above the throne as if it where a blue-tailed sea hawk seeking its loving mate. Large pillars held up the roof like trees and underneath their titanic majesty dwelt the menfolk who attended the matters of state. These were dark times for Gondor and many knew that they may not see the coming day if not for the constant devices employed by these people. Here, a single phrase may make or break a nation gripped in eternal combat with the dark lord just leagues from their borders. And under the watchful eyes of the white marbled kings of old, Lord Denethor the 2nd was besieged with the devastating news that would slowly, as if it were poison seeking his heart, break and destroy his humanity.

"My lord Denethor, 'tis my sad duty to impart news of the departure of Lady Finduilas of Dol Amroth from this world. Let it be known that her ending was painless and that she died as she did live, as a noble and courageous lady devout to the good people of which we all serve. May the ancestor's play host to her now, for she is their immortal guest!" The maid kneeled in front of the Lord Steward, all the while quaking in fear. It was well-known to all that the lord of the citadel had a temper to match the great Ancalagon the Black, for both were mighty and terrible to behold when enraged. Only the cooling presence of the late lady could turn his incandescent heart to a simmer. So taking this in mind, the maid finally took the courage to enter the hall of Kings, and announce the passing of her late mistress. Hopeful that the master wouldn't take it out on her and she wouldn't be punished for such dreadful news.

Apon hearing the news, the lord actually looked at her as if she had just said something incomprehensible to his ears. For a moment he looked as if he was struck dumb by the news and stood almost stagnant behind a grand table covered with numerous papers and various charts. Then the news began to sink in as Denethor's face fell into shock and utter horror at the words as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of which the words meant. He braced himself on the table as he became white in the face. For a moment the maid, Talia, thought he may collapse under the heavy weight of his grief but this was soon replaced with utter disbelief and rage. "No, you're lying! She can't be gone, she can't be! No, she's just sleeping that's all, just asleep. Wake her up imminently girl or I'll have your head for your disobedience and deceit!"

"But sir, I swear apon Eru Iluvatar - the high father - that I tell the truth! Your wife has passed on and Nienna weeps for her!" Talia pleaded with a tone of fear. Her lord was angry with her and if he did indeed take her head out of the madness of grief, her family would be dishonoured and throw out to the streets. They would surely starve!

"Insolent girl! Stop spreading your filth in this hallowed place, guards remove her from my sight and send for my wife!" Talia was crying by now and the guards roughly grabbed hold of her hands and drew her away from the Steward in silent obedience. She began to struggle and whimper at the sentence, before begging the lord to see reason and forgive her for the truth that she had dutifully bought him.

"My lord Denethor, what is the meaning in this!" Talia turned to look apon this new player with a look of apprehension and dread. In her head, she began to plead with Nienna, lady of grief, compassion and endurance of the spirit, that she would be saved by this person and that he or she would help her lord to see the truth in her words. There, standing a front the great wooden doors, was Brúnith. Little Luthien was in her arms and there was an aura of ferociously about her like a mother wolf about to leap into the jaws of death to protect her young cub.

"Lady Brúnith, I trust you are not about to support this wicked girl's falsities? Did you not wait apon my wife this last hour? Where apon is she? For this fabler has spoken of her demise, of which I do not advocate!" Denethor paced like an angry warg, wary and full of confusion into when to attack its prey or if he even should.

"'Tis the sorrowful truth sire, your wife indeed did pass into Mando's judgement. The birth of her child was far too traumatic and painful for her to endure. I, myself, sent the girl to give the news and I do indeed support her in the words she has dutifully spoken" Each word was careful. If the lord did become as angered at Brúnith as he was at the moment at the mere maid that was grovelling at his feet, he may banish or order the death of her in payment. Then the child would be left without a guardian of which to depend on and her oath would be broken. Yes, diligence was needed. As well as clear thinking in order to both keep her honoured oath and her head.

"So the girl is not deceitful, yet my wife is dead? Why must the world taunt me so! Alas for my fair lady of heart. She was but faithful and young for all her years. And now she shall be forever more" Downcast eyes were all that remained of the lord as he began to give up the fight of life that consumed every creature in creation. It was a pitiful scene.

"My lord, be not discourage in hope, for yet in my arms be a candle in this bitter winter. Before entering the world of the newly departed; your wife managed to produce a child. 'Tis a girl my liege, and according to the wishes of Finduilas, is to be named Luthien after Luthien Tinuviel, the elven maid of lore. Will you honnor your wife by taking up the guardianship of your daughter?" The lady's words were soft and alike to silk as they straddled the mind of the lord high steward. She lowered the bundle of linen softly, and turned slowly sideways in order to fully present the child to her father. Truly this moment was crucial. This child's future depended on the acceptation of it's father and as the spirits have devised this child to be born to womanhood, so is the importance of the moment doubled.

"Kill her! Drown or burn the little wretch, I have no quarry. Let it not breathe the air so freely without a noose around it's fragile neck as it has killed her! My beloved is taken apon wings of death in return for that monster. That abomination! Damn her to the next world for if you do not take it's life now, I shall certainly kill it in revenge for its sins. Why is this child allowed to live while my love not?" Denethor wept in madness enduring as he increasingly became traumatized by the news. Brúnith looked at the child with confused eyes, be not this child beautiful? It had none of the defects that many a child did suffer nor an aura of malevolence that would cause this tyrade to become plausible. Brúnith looked in disgust at the lord of the city, were this man be at illness with his humours? Or was he suffering an illness of the brain.

"My lord, you cannot mean to kill your own daughter!" Brúnith started. "This child is not responsible for the recent loss of the great lady, nor should she bear the result. 'Tis not valid to think the way you do about a child of your own flesh and blood!" Brúnith took a breath. "Nor is it sane" she supposed slyly with a hint of menevolence.

"Then what would you have me do!" The lord snapped coldly. He was growing impatient and annoyed at the woman by the minute. No woman would refuse or mock him in that tone and get away with it.

"Take care of her!" Brúnith shouted to him, with the tone of obviousness. "Care for her as a father should do! As her mother would do. Love and care is all of which I ask of you my liege, love as a father, and care as a guardian!"

The steward sighed despairingly at the argument. "Fine, but I shall not love her. I shall never love her. For she may be Finduila's babe but she is not her. Nor shall she ever be!" venom seeped from this statement. He turned to the wreak of a girl behind him before speaking once more. "Take her to the nursery, girl. For I must go to my fair lady. 'Tis a walk I must do, though my heart does find it sorrowful" And with that, the hallowed corpse of a man started slowly towards the chamber and towards his fair lady-love.

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R&S if you liked this chapter or go to my profile and complete a poll to have your say in this adventure.

*Update: What weapon should Luthien use? Poll result is Shanzi*

Adieu.

Katherine


	3. Chapter 3: The seeds of madness are sown

Of Roses and Thorns:

Chapter 3: The seeds of madness are sown

(Date: TA - 18th of April 3010 or in Shire Reckoning 1410)

(Locations: Minas Tirith and western side of Anduin)

The city was alive with activity.

News of the arrival of the steward's most prominent guests had reached the shinning city of Minas tirith and there was a great tsunami of preparation to be done. The cooks were frantically trying to organise a welcoming feasts as young maids rushed back and forth from the market with baskets of ingredients. The aroma of roast beef quickly filled the air along with the musty smell of wood smoke from the roaring fires of the kitchens. Fresh bread was hastily exposed the spring air in an effort to keep up with the demands of cooking the immense feast. Servants were dashing from one room to the next and great, white bed sheets soon were hastily dried under the heat of the blaring sun. Rags were used to clean windows and bushfalls of wood were added to the pile near various grand fireplaces. Streets were sweeped and brass fixtures were polished and made to shine.

Suddenly a great horn sounded to the south of the city announcing the arrival of the distinguished guests from the princedom of Dol Amroth.

The whole group of dignitaries were a marvel to behold. An array of colour and noise that excited all that looked apon them. The ladies were dressed in fine silks and furs that highlighter their fair beauty and shapely figures. Many had feathered fans of which to stir the air or parasol's to block out the april sun in hopes to keep a perfect milk-white skin. Each had a distinctive hairstyle that stood out from the rest; including various feathered hats, french hoods, Atifets, gable hoods, Chaplets and loose styles that dictated a woman's status.

The lords were richly dressed in fine velvets and fur that would of cost more then any peasant would make in two lifetimes. Many had polished armour that reflected sunlight apon their breasts and scabbards hung proudly waiting for the call of battle. They all had a aura of pride, wealth, wit, bravery and handsomeness that made many a young maid lose their hearts by mere sight.

They were met at the great gate of the city by a young and vigorous youth garbed in the green and brown uniform of the Ithilian rangers.

"My Lord Adrahil the second, prince of the fair land of Dol Amroth, I am honoured by your esteemed visit. My father, the lord Denethor the 2nd of the house of stewards, will be pleased by your presence. I regret that he at the moment occupied with the affairs of state but will join us for dinner if you do wish for sustenance in light of your travels. I, therefore, am sincerely grateful for the chance of welcoming you to the city of Minas Tirith!" The young man bowed slightly and looked very awkward. This was of course untraditional and slightly rude that the lord high steward did not automatically meet and welcome the esteemed guests himself, rather retreat into his work and ignore the pleads of his councillors who fully endorsed the traditional meet and greet system. Not to mention that the heir apparent to the steward role was at this time in the ruined city of Osgiliath commanding the men defending that defiled place.

Therefore, the young man of twenty-seven years was forced to do it in his father's and brother's place. "We thank your people's generosity, Faramir; daughter-son. It is a shame that your father could not greet us but if he is attending to Gondor's needs, then it is forgiven. We have traveled a long while on our way to Major Erchiron, who is commanding the defences of Cair Andros, and accommodation will be most pleasurable. I always found the white walls of Minas Tirith most glorious to look apon!" The elderly prince's voice was proud and growling in tone and made it clear that this man had been to many a battle in his lifetime.

"Of course, our gates are always open to our allies from the south! Faramir paused before adding; "Especially allies who find joy in our home's magnificence!" It was a cheeky remark but made the elderly prince chuckle. There was no doubt amongst any man who had met the young man that the young Faramir held a certain romance with the city; far more then any young man of his age. He loved the city more then any young maiden who tiptoed in order to reach his eye, and would gladly surrender any jewel or trinket for her well being and protection. He may of been old in terms of wisdom and learning but youth still kept his feet in such things as his home cities' appearance.

"You should know brother, for I know that if you could; you would swear your 'troph to her and elope without any hesitation!" A cheerful voice rang out behind him. "And what a scandal that would be!" She dramatically swooned while holding her hand before her forehead. The gentlemen of the party roared with laughter at the blushing lad as he turned to address the lady.

"Sister, you are one to talk. I bet fifty gold pieces that any young lad of the city and realm would run away with you if you need ask along with some of the married ones too!" He spoke in good jest at the lady Luthien. It rang true, for even at eleven summers the lady was a sight to behold. Her alien hair was as black as Raven Feathers and fell just past her waist, and gave many the impression of a younger version of her mother. She was attired in a pale blue dress with sleeves that clung to her arms and left her shoulders bare. The dress had white underskirts and bodice, while the sleeves were long enough to elegantly hang on her arms. White thread embroided the shallow neckline that empathized her slender neck and growing body. She wore no jewelry except a golden locket containing the likeness of her mother, that hung around her neck. Apon her head lay a wreath of white roses entwined with lush leaves from the flowers that were thatched together hold the garland in position. All in all, the young girl was the very image of purity and grace.

"Therefore lies the greatest secret of the land; that my hand would be asked for and given if I did wish but yours lies empty like a beggar woman by the side of the road" The lady retorted in amist childish giggling. The roaring laughter exploded from the mouths of the court as they expressed their significant pleasure at seeing Faramir being out classed by a woman with wit to spare. "But enough of these childish prattles, we are entertaining guests" Luthien walked in a courtly fashion till she stood infront the guests and faced them next to her sibling. "You are our guests here as we are your hosts so I find no reason for keeping up our courtly ways in the presence of our kin. Welcome grandfather to our home, and welcome everyone to the proud city of Minas Tirith!" She dipped her head respectfully toward the gathering before catching sight of a familiar face.

"Luthien, it brings me great joy to see you again after all these months!" the lady Lothiriel came forward before hugging her cousin in all-earnist. The lady Lothiriel was born of fifteen summers and was of great humour and joy to match a child like her cousin. Therefore, the two girl's treated each other exactly like sisters rather then cousins whenever they crossed each other's paths. They were near inseparable from each other and neither held any envy other another's virtue. Lothiriel was by far the most beautiful of the pair with sea gray eyes and long, chocolate curls that were the envy of many other ladies of both courts. She wore a coral coloured dress with delicate embroidery detailing flowers in white, pink and green threads and held a fan that was near identical to her dress in colour and detail. Her lips were redder then her counter part and she was far more shapely then Luthien. However, Luthien was the more exotic of the two with dark black hair and rare green eyes like the fluorescent eyes of a wild cat. Both ladies had skill that was taught to them at birth by various teachers and mentors but Lothiriel was the holder of the more courtly talents such as embroidery, manners, dancing, childbearing skills and was a keen musical talent with the harp and the flute. Luthien instead had talent in languages, riding, archery and was able to play the violin with shocking flexibility.

"Lothiriel, your taller! By the Valor, your nearly the size of my brother!" the girl's exchanged a few rounds of passing remarks about height and the like before a middle aged man came forward and interrupted the welcoming. "Uncle Imrahil, I believe you have grown far more thinner then the last time I saw you. You really must eat more, or you will just fade away!" the heir to the princedom of Dol Amroth curtly nodded in amusement at his niece's concern.

"See father, Luthien is growing more like Finduilas every time we see her. Not only in looks but in wit too. I'm quite astounded at their likeness!" His words were well meant but as soon as they were spoke everyone grew quiet and nervous. The loss of the lady of Dol Amroth was still felt to all in both cities, and especially by the present prince of Dol Amroth who had fathered her. Awkward silence insured and was only broke by a few tensed movings to different positions.

"I see you are all tired and need rest from your journing. I would be honoured if you were to follow me to the sleeping quarters!" The lady Luthien finally spoke in order to break the unease. "Then after that you can dine with us and I'm sure you can remember our famous wine from days long ago!" The men cheered for the latter for that was the way of the menfolk; women, food and good wine could make any man the merrier. The lady herself took part in none of them but small portions of food if hunger was present.

Dinner was at midday, and most of the men were ravenous to the point of pleading for good food. They were all well received on the feast that was laid before them and the good atmosphere of the dinner. Due to the large size of the court, a team of thirteen serving girls tended to the needs of the celebrated guests. Of course, one or two of these girls were smitten with many of the lords and a few were asked secretly for a moonlight deliance in the men's private quarters but it was to be only expected. No doubt, a few hearts would be broken apon the parties's departure and a few threats would be delivered to the men by the father's of the unfortunate young girl's who did become with child after such a delance but these were resolved by amounts of coins that were handed secretly to the girl's in return for silence over such a scandal or a man would be pressured into marriage in order to preserve the family name but it was all to be natural.

The golden plates of the table were stacked high with roast beef, pork, fish and other delicacies of the region. Most of the goblets were full of good aged wine and many of the men were sedated into polite conversation. However, if each person spoke in reserved voices there was still a loud level of noise at any one time. Luthien and Lothiriel sat on the right of the long table and were opposite to the young Faramir and Imahil. At the front of the table were two comfortable chairs; one for the Steward - who was yet to arrive - and one for the prince. At the other end was an empty white chair that was kept empty in honor of the king should he ever return. In between was the many lords, ladys, dutchessess, dukes and other important people of the court. To the side of the long table was a group of players who entertained the guests with quiet music. Every moment it seemed that someone was obnoxiously laughing or another was gloating in a pompous manner as the meal went on.

"Lord Imrahil, where be your wife Eponine I hoped to have the opportunity to talk to her on the subject of a certain stitch I cannot seem to master. Although we have good tutors here in the city, I have yet to find a woman who has such a detailed knowledge on the subject!" The tone of the question was pleasant and light, and conveyed a sense of gentle .

"At home my dear lady, I fear she is quite uneasy with long amounts of travel on foot and finds the thrill of a horse better then a brisk walk. But the journey was too uneasy to go on horseback due to the amounts of plants and swamps that lay in our route. So she resolved to stay at Dol Amroth and reside there until we returned!" The response was controlled as always and carefully thought out, as was the way of noble speeches. Everyone who knew Eponine, could see a woman of particular fancy and everyone knew that unless the trip had horses that she would not go. She was very stubborn.

"That is a great shame. What of my cousin Erchirion? Has he succeeded in sending of those men from the south? He is very brave!" Each word was slathered in amusement as the young lady smiled and giggled at the statements.

"My son is doing very well, just last week he told me of defeating a great host of men about a hundred strong. Armoured too, and he told me that when they were victorious against them; that he took the chief's sword for his own. Just like his father I say!" The proud man was of course joking. It was well known to all Gondorian's that Erchirion was a ... imaginative boy in that he always has the most amazing stories of victory while most knew it was a proper disaster.

"And after that he went after the hoards of wild men from the west!" The lady Lothiriel chortled in a lady like manner.

"And after that he struck down a dragon and rescued a beautiful damsel!" Luthien added in the same way.

"But as they all do, the maiden left him for a life of virtue in worshiping the high father!" They both said identically at the same time, giving the illusion of a single person, before laughing merrily into a glass of non-alcholic refreshment. Around them, the men laughed in accordance due to the comedic wit and the fact that they had all consumed around two glasses of matured wine.

"It's a joy to see you again Lothiriel, and so grown up as well! I fear most of the single and a few married men in my realm has already lost their heart to such a fair young lady as yourself!" The joke was light and well taken by the ones nearby who smiled or laughed in amusement. Faramir of course had a way with words.

"I also fear that many a married and single woman has already waited patiently for your dear brother, to ask them for your favour!" The retort was of course referencing how Faramir and his brother, though at the peak of their youth was yet to pick a woman for their hand. The reason of course being that while one was in bliss with the libraries of the white city while the other was quite taken with the glory of the battlefield. She turned her attentions to her other present cousin Luthien before adding more. "It seems the like for you my darling Luthien. Eleven summers old and already such a prize for any man in the realm!"

"I am still a child Lothiriel, so I may enjoy the solidarity when I can. My father of course, by tradition will pick the prize winner and I shall be a wife to any a young or old man with the title to match mine" the young girl giggled in joined merriment. Of course there has been a few matches that were perfect but most betrothals were unhappy and very different in terms of age ranges. It was the ultimate fear of any a lady to be in this large number but tradition was not so easily changed to fit the wishes of it's subjects.

"And a fine prize to challenge I should say, 'twill be hard to find a worthy husband for such a Jem!" Lothiriel laughed in jester and hid her own fear in marriage behind the retort.

But before the lady Luthien could reply back with a witty retort, a plump herald signalled for quiet by banging a golden pole on the floor; that was decorated in a banner of the white tree, the seven stars of Elendil and the crown of the king.

"My lords and ladies, Lord Denethor the second of Gondor. High steward of the king's realm." The herald proclaimed in all manner of pomp and tradionality. Everyone, including the revered prince, rose from their seat and looked toward's their grand host. He was a proud man, with a tone of royalty and Valliance that was slowly slipping away as time went on. His furs and velvets were rich and his face still held the cusp of his youth. His whole apparel was a ebony black and everyone knew about his constant mourning for the dear late lady of the realm. He, by this time anyway, had been able to stem the tide of grief striken tears behind a wall of uncaring and despair. Time had done no favours in healing a broken heart it seemed.

"Prince Adrahil, it has been a long time since I last saw you and your court so far from your dominon at Dol Amroth, may I ask why?" He questioned in a monotonous way before sitting on the sombre chair next to the prince. It was quite an uncivil query to make to a man who was by all rights higher in position then he was. The lord steward was merely a keeper for the royal throne of Gondor and had no business in talking so directly to a man who by alrights had the station to match a lower king of the land. It would of been a great insult to dare speak this way had it been any other man but the shrewd old man was not at all questioned on this breach of courtly etiquette due to the kinmanship between the two men and the forgiving nature of the prince.

"My honorable host Denethor, can I not see my Grandchildren by your grace? My dear Grandaughter has certainly grown up since the last time I saw her. Already blooming with youth that has forsaken me. Look at that ebony hair I say? Have you ever seen the like in these fair lands, for though my eyes are old I have not. Exotic, I say, and utterly a mirror of her name-sakes in terms of beauty. I say that you will not find trouble in finding a suitable match for her when the time comes." The elderly man smiled pleasantly at the lady while she faintly blushed and smiled back in thanks. "Youth is a wondrous thing child, and I ask you to cherish every last moment of it when your a barmy old thing like myself!"

"You give me credit grandfather, yet accept none for yourself! I see your face and think of the noble men of the last alliance from our house of Hurin. You are a virtuous man grandfather, and I hold it that there is no fault in your soul nor bearing. Kindness is a virtue it seems that does not diminish with age, rather grows with it. It is an honnor to play host to such a gifted man as yourself!" Every word was slathered with sincerity and honesty. The compliment was well found and every word the truth in her eyes.

"Your a rare thing my dear, a very rare thing!" The old man replied in a wonderous voice. He took another sip of wine from his goblet before gesturing to one of the serving girls who refilled it with sweet wine. "And my delightful grandson? Of which I am sure to be as strong as the great Elendil of our colourful lore yet as learnered as the the Elven king Turgon of the First Age. I see a man who would have the compassion and wisdom of the Eldar race. He is most noble I think and a credit to his family's bloodline!" he nodded courtly towards Faramir and looked at him fondly before speaking again. "And then of course is my gallant Grandson Boromir who I hear is unable to attend due to duties at Osgiliath. I know him to be a great swordsman to match the skill of any apon the land and has many merits to his name already. He is as large as a brown bear and twice the cunning as a wolf of the Misty Mountains. Oh how I would desire to be as young as he is and to go to the battlefield with my sword drawn and my mail shinning ..." he drew of in an dreamy tone.

"The girl still needs to learn the femine arts Adrahil! For she can hardly hold her tongue when told to nor keep a refrained mind!" the lord Denethor insinuated with enough venom to down a legendary Mumakil. It was true that at times the lady Luthien did not keep a refrained presence but it was all in good faith and the insult was mostly due to the amount of animosity that was between daughter and father.

"Prehaps my father wishes me to be as silent as an arrow for I find a decent conversation to be of great pleasure. How else would you find such great company yet not tell them so?" the young lady mused in a threatening tone. The argument was unseemly and broad, and was not to be seen in front of the guests but behind closed doors. The words were sound enough but allowed for the insistence of privacy for such a quarrel.

"Prehaps it is a woman's place to be silent in the matters of state Luthien!" the lord steward retorted in a stubborn fashion. Never did the lord steward call his daughter by the word nor by any fashion title that indicated their family connection such as child, issue or offspring. It was a underhanded blow to her not to be called by her connection and sometimes some of the courtiers mentioned that prehaps she was not his legal issue but of another's! The shame and the humiliation of this was evident of her face yet she held her tongue at it out of respect for her father's position.

"So you wish for a woman to be enlightened and uneducated? Do you wish for us to become your slaves then? To cower in the corner while you beat and scorn us! Is it not better to teach a woman that she is the same as a man? That we are equal in both title and status, for it seems that we are the holders of life and not men. Therefore we are more then you and we should rule you!" and with that she ended the conversation with a look of pure hatred. The talks around them had become silent as the argument escalated to a standing point till this moment when they all began to dare and talk again.

"Denethor, we will only be here for tonight while we rest. Tommorow we will head for the encampment at Cair Andros for my son Erchirion, as he is taking care of it's defence. I must ask however, if you would be prepared to part with your young daughter for I fear I have grown fond of her and wish for her company while journing to my grandson. It will be a weeks journey to Cair Andros on horseback and it would be a great comfort and privilege to be with my granddaughter!" The prince asked casually.

"Father, may I go with them to see Erchirion? 'Tis been near six summers since I looked apon him last and I would be full of mirth to see his gallant figure again. 'twill be only a few days visit and it would be a delight to accompany my kin on this journey!" The young lady begged in a excited tone towards her father in a voice that seemed full of life and joy.

"This is not a journey for a lady in your station! You must learn the feminine arts and must not go on long trips to places where you are not safe or required to be!" The roaring voice of the steward proclaimed in a angry tone.

"But father, surely it is my duty as a host to help them get to their destination? They are my family too and you cannot lock me away from them out of precaution and sheer ignorance. Please just let me go and see them! And then I'll do anything you ask and finish my studies with the dedication you ask of me. Please!" The pleas of the lady were sincere and full of anxiety and desperation.

"All of your studies?" The steward inquired.

"Of course father, I swear apon the great spirits that I would complete each one to the standard of your ideals!" The young girl answered while holding a hand over her breast in saying the oath so it would bind her to her word.

"I have your oath now, and you are bound to it. You may leave with the court of Dol Amroth but you must conduct yourself with humility and grace. But first you must apologise for your indiscretion towards me. Then and only then will you be able to go" The steward smiled in a way that looked like a smiling snake before swallowing it's prey.

The lady considered the request before swallowing her pride. "You were right father, no woman should rule a man. I forgot myself and my station. I will in the future respect and follow your orders as my king and master. Forgive me, for I was wrong." each word was sincere but everyone could see the great anger behind them and how she was not sorry for her actions and would do it again if she had need to.

"Then make ready your things, you are to leave tommorow. And Luthien, in the future you must learn to control your tongue. I may be a gracious man but others are not as forgiving as me. remember that!" the red faced young girl stood, nodded respectfully to the people and excused herself.

The lady hurried towards her maidservants and gave orders for her departure while her ladies packed her clothes, jewelry and equipment that was needed for such a trip before getting the young lady ready for bed. At sunrise, the maids awakened her and dressed her in a green dress made of velvet and gold thread that had a modest rounded neckline. The dress had pale green underskirts and short, puffed sleeves that stopped half the amount above her elbow. Around her neck was the golden locket of before and apon her wrist was a bracelet of emeralds from the mines of the Dwarves. Around her waist was a golden sash, and the ribbon trailed down her back for a few inches before stopping. The final piece to the dress was a ebony flat cap with a black feather on the side.

The maids carried her bags towards a chestnut mare that was already saddled, cleaned and brushed into pristine shape. One groom helped her onto the horse and the other fixed the bag to the saddle. Wishing goodby to the group, the lady steadied the horse and took off in a trot while side-saddled. The citizens bowed deeply towards her as she passed and Luthien nodded respectfully to them or smiled or waved in accord. Finally reaching the lower level and the company of noble men and women that were all horsed on wonderful steeds of brilliant virtues. Apon a black stallion was the prince himself with a saddle embrued with gold and fine fabrics, while the lady Lothiriel was sat on a sandy coloured mare and her father Imrahil was sat on a brown stallion of wild temperaments. Together they spoke of their goodbyes before leaving the city in an orderlly fashion with a guard of men on each side of the party for safety.

"My lord Adrahil, grandfather, may I ride in a masculine fashion? For speed and safety in this rocky, wild terrain" the lady Lothiriel asked with a tone of ache as they crossed the plains of Gondor towards a forested area on the eastern side of the Anduin river.

"Of course daughter, any woman who wishes may ride the like. We are at the moment in territory that may provoke attack and if that were to happen, speed will be needed to out run them!" a gush of relief splashed over the ladies as they adjusted their positions. The lady Lothiriel fell back to her cousin as they talked in light exchanges over small subjects that seemed to fit the occasion. They continued like this for a while before the lady Lothiriel gave a meaningful look towards her cousin before looking back towards the prince. Taking the meaning of the look, the lady Luthien urged her horse on towards the prince till they were opposite one and other before setting a pace.

"Uncle may we ride ahead? 'Twill be a delight to feel a horse at full gallop and it is only a few more leagues before we meet our destination?" The young lady asked with wanting looks.

"You may but stay close and do not stray in dangerous territory such as this! And stay with the guards!" Adrahil signaled to the men who were ridding along side the party and on his command, four guards approached the girls on horseback. They took off their black hats and dipped in respect. The ladies smiled before increasing their speed to a gallop and surged far ahead of the party while being flanked by the four guards on grey mounts.

"Cold weather is it not?" the lady Luthien asked in order to install conversation into the ride.

"As bitter as a winter's night yet the great sun looks apon us still. 'Tis very curious I think" Lothiriel replied in a high courtly voice. It was obvious that the ladies wished to talk in private and quickly and so the guards created a guard that was not close enough to overhear but not far away so to be at hand if there was to be an attack.

"Luthien, I have news that you must keep secret. I don't care if you are tortured within an inch of your life but this must be kept quiet. If only for my sake but for a great few, for dearest cousin I must have your allegiance!" the pompous voice of Lothiriel faded in that instant and was replaced by a stern and powerful lady of great power and influence. Luthien's eyes flashed silently at her cousin and in an instant the laughing and giggling child was replaced by a sober, older lady knew not by anyone.

"You have it cousin!" she spoke quietly while in a almost frightened way. Secrets have been known to kill before, especially if they are kept by those in high status.

"Lately I have found comfort in the presence of Sir Adair, he is a good gentleman with perfect features and virtues. However we have taken to meeting in private due to his low position at court and meagre fortune. And as a result of these meetings; I have conceived a child!" Luthien gasped in scandalous shock. "I have yet to tell him but I will and then he and I will elope and set up a home in a far away village somewhere. Prehaps we shall go to Rohan, or laketown or bree like in those stories that Brúnith used to tell us when we were young!" the lady mused. This was scandalous news that could dishonor the Dol Amroth noble family or worse.

"Cousin, this is grave news! An un-married woman who is with babe is surely a matter of scandal. Can you not somehow ... prevent the birth or at least find another gentleman to claim the child as their own. I know you say that the man is good in looks and behavior but his station and wealth will make you into a beggar surely. You will become penniless and dishonored, while your father will have no choice but to disown you. I beg you cousin to try and bring your courses but by a little so the child be not born!" The lady Lothiriel stared at the child before her and wondered at her age for a moment.

"No cousin, I have lay in my bed and I shall not be rid of it for all the world. When I and the court return to Dol Amroth, I shall tell my father the news on my knees and beg for his forgiveness. I will not murder my child!" The lady was adamant, stubborn and as unrelenting as a winter blizzard in icy December.

"Then you have my promice that you will always find shelter in my home no matter what cousin for you are the closest thing to a sister I have. And if I have to beg my father for your keep, I would do it more so. In my eyes it seems, you are my sister!" the lady Luthien smilled at her cousin weakly.

The company had entered by this time a small ravine in the middle of a small, though thick, wood. The air seemed stilled, and there was no melodies from the black ravens in the leafless trees above them. The ground was soft with mud and the summer light was fragmented by the unnaturally bare branches of the old, gnarled willows. It was quiet, too quiet.

Then suddenly the horses panicked and jolted, flinging the guards of their steeds as well as the two ladies. They landed ungracefully on the ground as the horses bolted from the places as fast as their legs could carry them. There was a small rustle before a company of savage, lusty, lawless men came charging towards them like a sandstorm. The ladies threw off their shoes and began to run while the guards drew their weapons.

"Run cousin, RUN!" the lady Lothiriel shouted in terror as she grabbed her cousin's hand and fled the scene. The clanging sounds of metal screamed in their ears and the sickening sounds of injured or murdered men savaged their ears so much the lady Luthien made a moment in order to cling to her ears and block out the noise but her hand was captured by her cousin who urged her forward. There was a wrenching feeling as the lady Lothiriel tripped and fell onto the ground. "Don't worry about me, just run!" she cried as Luthien stopped and hesitated before running quickly towards safety however it was not to be as a group of four men seemed to materialise before her from the shadows to block her path. Almost instantly she ran back in hysterical fashion, not even caring for the men who would were back there.

"LUTHIEN!" A female cry screamed like a angry spirit. "DON'T YOU DARE HURT HER! LUTHI..." the tirade of frantic screaming was suddenly halted by a vulgar shout and what sounded like a fist hitting the speaker's skin.

"Loth! Where are you Loth? LOTH!" Luthien screeched at the top of her vocal range. She started to struggle and babble nonsense as her attackers closed in on their terrified prey. Hands reached out and roughly pulled her as Luthien's animal instincts set in as she tried to fight of anyone within her reach. But she was only a child and these men were stronger then her.

The leader of the company stepped forth in annoyance at the terrified girl. In the light, Luthien could see why he was the leader for he near radiated cruelty and slyness. His skin was swarthy and his black hair was swept behind and hidden by a brown turban of significant quality. He wore a scarlet tunic, as did the other warriors, but the embroidery was drenched in wealth. His sword lay in his scabbard and his eyes were as black as a crows.

He raised a fist and punched into the body of the young girl before turning to look for his more valuable prize, Lothiriel, who was on the floor and completely unconscious. She was more valuable as a prize due to her age and beauty that would bring a high sum if any man wanted to buy her for 'entertainment'. But no, his orders were to capture the girls alive and unspoilt for later.

Luthien was badly dazzled by the blow but not unconscious. She meekly moved her head to see in front of her but all she found was another punch that worked it's purpose and made the young girl crumple and stagger in result.

Another punch.

And then it all went black.

* * *

R&S if you liked this chapter and thanks for all the helpful reviews.

Adieu.

Katherine2701


	4. Chapter 4: This hand be not freely given

Of Roses and thorns

Chapter 4: This hand be not freely given

(Date: TA - 3rd July 3018 or in Shire Reckoning 1418)

(Location: Minas Tirith)

"Lothiriel!" I cried out in a blind panic.

I awoke panicked and scared apon my bed, covered in my red silk covers and swan feathered pillows that balanced my head above the white sheets below me. The darkness of night hit me like a smothering blanket and my heart stiffened. For a moment all I could think of was where and who I was before the memories rolled back and I began to breathe again. "My lady! Are you alright?" my concerned maid asked as she ran to grasp my hand in reassurance. I clutched her hand and smiled.

"I am fine Melian, 'twas just a nightmare. Be at ease, and rest for we both need our strength for the coming day!" I spoke with fondness towards the young girl. She was a recent addition to my staff, coming from the noble family from the princedom of Cair Andros of which my uncle was the current prince. Uncle. I felt cold again as old memories flooded passed my eyes and I struggled to keep them from pouring out as crystal tears from my eyes. I relaxed my body and my breath rate. I must not show weakness, I reminded myself curtly, before lying back down on my bed. Melian hesitated for a moment before retreating to her cot at the bottom of my bed. I have a team of ladies who look after me and every night, one of them stay by my side to protect and assist in the night. Talia was the oldest, for she attended my mother when she was with child - me - and assisted and lead my other maids Laurelin, Nessa and Melian. My household also included a guard of fifteen men on rotational shifts, a personal tailor, two grooms who looked after my horses, my tutors, a team of cooks and ten maid servants from my city and surrounding households. All of them were devoted to look after my every need and desire.

This night I was with the lady Melian as lady Talia was with her husband as he had just arrived back after time in the war torn city of Ostiliagath. I imagine that she was overjoyed at his return, as I would hate to have my spouse away for such a long time and in such danger so I permitted her leave in order to be with him on this night. 'Tis is the way of her vows to him that allows me so for now Talia, though being wed a year and three days, has not been able to produce issue for her husband's delight. I knew that she was desperate to prove she was of able bodied for the role and so I thought it would be proper to allow her a night of which to help this. I debated a while on the prospects of motherhood and of marriage before succumbing to the trance of sleep.

When I awoke, my ladies were gathered around me in readiness for the day ahead. It was important that I were to be ready for the day with diligence and punctuality. First, I was presented with white slippers so to keep my feet warm by Nessa before Laurelin held out to me a bowl of fresh, warm water and Melian gracefully passed me a small hand towel of which I dried and cleaned my hands for the troubles ahead. Then Nessa produced a linen shift while removing the nightdress from my body. Then they acted as a protective circle to keep my body from prying eyes till we reached the room next door that contained a large golden bath with streams of hot water inside. I walked to the edge of the bath before Talia removed the robe and helped me into the bath for it was most slippery.

I bathed diligently and scrubbed my skin with utmost care. My body had indeed grown for my my age with all of the improvements that corresponds with my age and sex. My ladies let me wash my body myself always as I found it more comfortable and less of an embarrassment for them. However today they were required to make me more of a lady then late and once I signalled to them that I was finished my bath and they are free to beautify me.

They first worked on my hair, by washing it in a blend of rose water and brutally brushing every tangle out with an armada of hairbrushes. Then they brought my hair behind my back and brought out two crimson ribbons with a length of about inches. They then separated two strands from the front of my hair and began to braid the ribbon into one horizontally before doing the other identically before tying the two together using a spare rubber band. The end of the piece was loose; as they decided not to cut off the ribbon in order to make it look more natural. Overall it looked royal and like a reversed crown that defiantly looked perfect for my station.

The dress was made of red velvet and cloth that was rich in colour and feel. My shoulders were bare of straps, instead they were hung onto my arms with wide hanging sleeves. The bodice was tight around my chest, and refined the curves I had gained in age. Golden thread was stitched into flowered embroidery down the hemline that ran vertically down my chest from the top of the bodice to my waist. The skirt started at the bottom of the tight bodice and was very large and loose. An inch away from the bottom of the dress was a golden hemline where the bottom had been folded and sowed back into the fabric. Underneath that were two underskirts of white Muslin and red linen that decently covered my legs from view. Then my feet were shoved into a pair of red, flat, slippers that I had to take of in order to stop them falling off my feet.

We then went to our doom.

It was a perfect summers day, with the yellow orb of fire glaring overhead with no clouds to hide it's gaze. Underneath the sunlight, I saw the white marble of the city shine like a glimmering mirror. It seems that Minas Tirith is torch, a beacon if you will, of light against the threat of Mordor. Especially in these dark times for I know that it is so, for the shadow from the east is growing with each passing day. We all feel the chill now and I know that war will soon be apon us.

The bow of the city, aside to the white tree of Gondor that lay forever bare, stood my father cloaked in his black robes that I thought drowned him. Along side him was a man I despised beyond all others yet never looked apon. I knew of him from the gossip that had plagued me ever since I knew of his arrival. This ... this was the man I was to marry? A scandalous man who beat his servants and raped his maids violently, leaving them barren. A man who by all accounts, is the most hated man in the realm. Oh papa, please do not do this to me. I looked at his features, too sharp I think, and then to his eyes, a dull blue. Then his robes, that while rich and fine, seemed vulgar and cheap apon him. His hair was slimy and his stature was weak. No, I shall not marry this man. I would rather plead on my hands and knees then marry this ... this pig!

"My I present lady Luthien!" my father's plump fingers clamped around my shoulders and I struggled to stop myself from forcing his hand off me. He looked at me with those raven eyes of his, and instantly I felt the pressure of pleasing my father become like a stone in my inner gut. I was not to shame him, or there would be consequences beyond my imagination with none of them being appreciated. "Lady Luthien, this is Sir Hathor of the city of Erech. He is a trader of many valuable resources and his father is a great friend of mine!" my father was a fool. Could he not see that this man's house was built on the slavery of others nor of his questionable honour for I knew that many a maiden had been left by the wayside by this man and his menfolk. I have heard stories that the father's of daughters weep apon seeing their standard for the fox always plays with the pigeons before ruthlessly snapping their necks with his jaws. Many a kin strife has been called about this family and I heartily near fainted on the spot in fear.

"My lady Luthien, it is an honnor to see such an honnorable and virtuous madam as yourself after such a long ride. I have heard many rumors of your beauty but none now meet the real thing. Forgive me if I do stare at you for I am not accustomed such fine and graceful young lady as yourself!" your words are like poison sir, and I know that you do speak as a ruiner of ladies and not as a lover of one's heart.

"Then you have not met any woman of Minas Tirith Sir, for there are many flowers on the branches of this city that do bloom in this summer day. I am but one of them!" the words were deceptive. He had most certainly seen a great deal of our women and I had in forethought warned any maid to never walk unaccompanied passed him nor attend him without another there. Each were scared by him for the amount of maids in his own household that held and nursed babes that were fathered brutally by him. Father, please, please don't make me do this!

"My daughter is too modest. Sir Hathor, I believe we have some points to discuss but first I must talk in private with my daughter!" daughter? I have never been called by that term since I was born of my mother's womb! So I took my father's slimy hand and allowed him to lead me like a dog on a lead towards a small room in the Citidel, for this needed an explanation.

"Father, what is he doing here! You know the web of scandal that surrounds him, and what he has done. Are you really prepared to sell your own daughter to such a ... a pig!" I shouted at him with a wave of anger that I spurred towards him. How could he do this to me! I have done everything I can to appease him, and have not even raised my voice against any of his unjust or immoral decisions all year.

My father grabbed me and threw me into a nearby wooden cabinet. "Curb your dissolute tongue Luthien or I shall have one of the guards cut it from you!" he threatened while pressing on my arms to keep me in place. I struggled against him and tried to force him off me, while my head burned. Everything was too loud, too big and too foul. A ferocious headache awoke inside me and I began to feel weak and dizzy. "You will treat Sir Hathor with respect Luthien, for he a very close ally of ours and his family supports one-fifth of Minas Tirith's finances. We cannot afford to loose his family's wealth, not at this time of imminent war! Lives are at risk, so put your selfish ways behind you and smile at him. And if he likes you, and wishes to marry you, you must accept it. It will save the lives of all of ours if a marriage occurs and will provide for the army that will protect us from the shadow of the East. So smile, wave and be merry for all our sakes and try not to be so selfish and outspoken!" he roared at me. The headache pounded in my head as I cringed at his words. i was trapped! We need money desperately for the war effort and if i were to do this; our troubles will be resolved. But I will be left a wife. A wife of a man who will hurt me; and a wife of a man who would act and treat me like a mere object enslaved to his wishes.

"Father please, your hurting me!" I yelled at him as his fingers punctured my skin and left bruises and cuts. He shoved me again before releasing me and strode towards the door. "Why are you so cruel to me father? Why do you hate me so?" I murmured as I lay on the floor, bruised and sick at heart. My legs seemed unable to hold me properly and I could feel my headache worsen still.

"I treat you this way because you are my daughter; and you alone killed her!" he responded as cold as a bath of icy water of which I refused to lie in. Her? I asked myself a moment before I looked up confused and disturbed by the statement. My father looked at me for a moment and I was not sure he actually saw me but another. "You murdered my sweet wife Luthien, by living while she did not. Why could you not of been born?" he was distant now and I felt sick.

"Mother died in childbirth father, not murder. It was not my fault!" I looked at him, all of him and wondered; was it my fault? No, a voice seemed to say in my mind's eye. It was not your fault, it spoke again in a voice that reminded me of Brúnith. Sweet Brúnith, who served me so many summers ago. The lady who hugged me tight and kissed away my hurts, who by all means was the only mother I knew. The lady who was pulled away from me and taken by death by the form of Tuberculosis. I never even got to say goodbye.

"It was not my fault!" I stated again before storming out of the door in utter disgust at the wreck of my father. It was not my fault!

I ran to my quarters before bursting into tears apon kneeling at the side of my bed. I could recognise the footsteps of my ladies as they approached me with instant concern. Talia must of hugged me close and dabbed away my tears but I could not tell really. Everything was numb and cold. I felt the walls of my city converge on me and for an instant I thought about giving up. What did life matter? What is it's cost? How could anyone bare it? My mind seemed to betray me for answers and so I just kneeled there untill my ladies got the point and retreated to the outside corridor.

"Nienna, what should I do? I ask for your compassion to tell me what I should do? I can't do this anymore! Why must I make such choices when others around me are free to love and hate? It is not fair to ask me to exchange my freedom for the lives of my people. My life yes, instantly and without hesitation. But my freedom? How can you ask any of your people to forgo that? Please, please help me! I need your pity more now then ever before. To you I pray, to you I serve and to you I question!" I prayed passionately.

"Vaire, what should I do? I ask for your guidance to tell me what I should do? Is this my destiny or am I destined for other things? Do I have another part to play in this production? Or is this it? Please, please help me! I need your knowledge more now then ever before. To you I pray, to you I serve and to you I question!" I asked again.

"Varda, what should I do? I ask for your strength to tell me what I should do? Is it better to die then live in servitude even if it saves those I love? Is it right to do this? Please, please help me! I need your might more now then ever before. To you I pray, to you I serve and to you I question!" I asked finally.

"I have asked for you all; compassion, fate and strength, and now I beg your answers. Please help a maiden who loves none other then to serve. In you I seek guidance, in you I seek knowledge and in you I seek protection. In your light I thrive, in your mercy I am protected and in your wisdom I am humbled. I live to serve you and my life is yours!" I ended the prayer and stood up before going to the mirror and looking at myself. My long, flowing sleeves could hide the marks already forming at my arms. I straightened my dress and hair before stopping for a drink of water delivered by Talia, who knew better then to speak in this circumstance. I drank half of it before taking out a small, concealed, silver flask of questionable contents and taking a hearty swell of it. All of my ladies carried such flasks apon our persons for strength in the coming ordeals of the day.

"I am ready!" I lost my joy that moment and my voice was hollow and cold. I was already dead inside.

I marched towards the great hall of my forefathers and stood in front of the menfolk who were already sat at the table. As if by instinct, I nodded to them respectfully before taking my place at the table. Foodstuffs had already been served and by the rosy cheeks of the men, so was the wine. My father was present, so was some of the close courtiers, Hathor and a group of court musicians who I recognised from my music lessons so long ago. They were dressed very finely in good quality cloth but now I didn't see it as beautiful rather as horrible works of art that could feed a family for years apon end. I saw selfish men rather then diplomats and in response I did not smile but sat quietly until I were to be addressed.

"Play daughter, and entertain our guests with your musical skill!" my father commanded me. No, he only wanted to show me off like a new born calf at market but I had no choice. It was either prancing like a wild mare or a shameful show of aggression to a man who may or may not be my future consort. I stood, nodded and went to the musicians to ask for a violin to play. I picked it up, tuned it correctly before poisoning it in readiness. I thought of a melody quickly within my head before playing with the help of the court musicians. The melody was sad, empty and lost alike to myself. It was full of grief and despair yet so much longing for a love that cannot be. I wanted to love, and to be loved, by a man who actually cared for me personally and not my looks or station. I want it to be real, not as false like this. I wanted true love, and that is the only thing my heart craves. I do not care for jewels or riches, nor do I care for fear or force but true, undeniable, insatiable love between a willing man and woman.

I played for that hope and that hope alone.

After the foul some dinner, we all retired to our separate rooms but I could not sleep. So I wandered the city in a unconscious trance while I tried to dull my emotions and think no more of the subject that frightened me more then death itself. But then, just as I nearly succeeded I heard male voices ahead. panicked by the sound, I hid behind a tapestry that I knew to have a large, empty impression behind it from a removed fireplace that no one thought to fill.

"So what do you think of my daughter Sir Hathor? Speak honestly!" My father's voice seemed to echo in my ear. No, not father. Never father, from now on it is Denethor and not father. I will treat him with the same venom that he poisons me with.

"She is very beautiful Denethor, exotic even, with those golden eyes of hers alike to a fire or a drop of sunlight, sparkling like the glittering cave I hear about from the wild lands of Rohan in the cold fortress of Helm's deep. Her whitened skin is unmarred by blemishes like a fresh patch of snow atop the mountain of Silvertine. She in my opinion, is the epitome of feminine loveliness and a fair match for all maidens my eyes have seen!" The harsh sound of Hathor's laughter was alike to a dragon trying it's hand at singing - a bad idea and very tiresome after a while - and I certainly didn't have a clue why any woman would lose her heart to him. His looks are foul, his personality is bleak and his humour in bad taste.

"That is of good news Sir Hathor, for I think my daughter to be a fine prize for you. Now we must talk of the dowry and of the subject that I must talk to about the agreement you have promised me for allowing you to marry my fine daughter!" I rolled my eyes, Denethor has never stopped plotting since he was born so why should he stop now? "Of course the added forces you have commissioned will be very welcome to our army along with the added ships you've stationed to protect from those annoying Corsairs. I dare say that they are quite ... appreciated in these dark times. And so your marriage to my daughter will be very welcome!"

"Of course, she is very respectable and would very much be a good standard to which to raise my family banner. No doubt that she will bare me many sons!" he laughed again. Oh by the high father, I hadn't even thought till then of children. I felt quite sick at the prospect. "As a result of her beauty I have even come up with a motto for her; a rose without a thorn for I see no imperfection!" Oh shut up you great annoying idiot. Of course I like the motto, but come on! Be a little bit more original. Then of course it hit me like a great tone of marble, I did not like this man one bit and if I didn't like him then our marriage will be a utter disaster. And therefore I must get out of this marriage, and quickly! But how do I do that?

Then it hit me.

R&S if you liked this chapter and thanks for all the helpful reviews. Also the melody from this chapter is the love theme from the Tv show Merlin, you know the one between Gwen and Arthur.

Anyway adieu,

Katherine2701


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